Clo. Indeed, he fhould be a foot-man, by the garments he hath left with thee; if this be a horfe-man's coat, it hath feen very hot service. Lend me thy hand, F'll help thee. Come, lend me thy hand.

[Helping him up. Aut. Oh! good Sir, tenderly, oh!

Clo. Alas, poor foul.

Aut. O good Sir, foftly, good Sir: I fear, Sir, my fhoulder-blade is out.

Clo. How now? canft ftand?

Aut. Softly, dear Sir; good Sir, foftly; you ha done me a charitable office.

Clo. Doft lack any mony? I have a little mony for thee.

Aut. No, good fweet Sir; no, I beseech you, Sir; I have a kinfman not paft three quarters of a mile hence, unto whom I was going; I fhall there have mony, or any thing I want: offer me no mony, I pray you; that kills my heart.

Clo. What manner of fellow was he, that robb'd you? Aut. A fellow, Sir, that I have known to go about with trol-my-dames : I knew him once a fervant of the prince; I cannot tell, good Sir, for which of his virtues it was, but he was certainly whipp'd out of the

court.

Clo. His vices, you would fay; there's no virtue whipp'd out of the court; they cherish it to make it stay there, and yet it will no more but abide.

Aut. Vices I would fay, Sir. I know this man well he hath been fince an ape-bearer, then a process-server, a bailiff; then he compafs'd a motion of the prodigal fon, and married a tinker's wife within a mile where my land and living lyes; and, having flown over many knavish profeffions, he fettled only in a rogue; fome call him Autolicus.

Clo. Out upon him, prig! for my life, prig;-he haunts wakes, fairs, and bear-baitings.

Aut. Very true, Sir; he, Sir, he; that's the rogue, that put me into this apparel.

Clo. Not a more cowardly rogue in all Bohemia; if you had but look'd big, and spit at him, he'd have run. Aut. I must confefs to you, Sir, I am no fighter; I am false of heart that way, and that he knew, I warrant him.

Clo. How do you now?

Aut. Sweet Sir, much better than I was; I can stand, and walk; I will even take my leave of you, and pace foftly towards my kinfman's.

Clo. Shall I bring thee on thy way?

Aut. No, good-fac'd Sir; no, fweet Sir.

Clo. Then, farewel, I must go to buy spices for our fheep-fhearing.

[Exit.

Aut. Profper you, fweet Sir! Your purfe is not hot enough to purchase your fpice. I'll be with you at your fheep-fhearing too: if I make not this cheat bring out another, and the fhearers prove fheep, let me be unroll'd, and my name put into the book of virtue !

SONG.

fog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
And merrily bent the file-a.
merry beart goes all the day,
Your fad tires in a mile-a.

A

[Exit.

SCENE, the Prospect of a Shepherd's Cotte.

Flo.

T

Enter Florizel and Perdita.

HESE

your

unusual weeds to each part of you Do give a life: no fhepherdefs, but Flora Peering in April's front. This your sheep-shearing Is as a meeting of the petty gods, And you the Queen on't,

Per. Sir, my gracious lord,

To chide at your extreams it not becomes me :
Oh pardon, that I name them: your high self,
The gracious mark o'th' land, you have obfcur'd
With a fwain's wearing; and me, poor lowly maid,
Moft goddess-like prank'd up. But that our feasts

โก

In every mes have folly, and the feeders
Digeft it with a cuftom, I fhould blush
To fee you fo attired; fworn, I think,
To fhew myself a glass.

Flo. I blefs the time,

When my good falcon made her flight a-crofs.
Thy father's ground.

Per. Now Jove afford you caufe!

To me the difference forges dread, your greatnefs
Hath not been us'd to fear; even now I tremble
To think, your father, by fome accident,
Should pass this way, as you did: oh, the fates!
How would he look, to fee his work, fo noble,
Vildly bound up! what would he fay! or how
Should I in thefe my borrow'd flaunts behold
The fternness of his presence!

Flo. Apprehend

Nothing but jollity: the Gods themselves,
Humbling their deities to love, have taken
The fhapes of beafts upon them. Jupiter
Became a bull, and bellow'd; the green Neptune
A ram, and bleated; and the fire-rob'd God,
Golden Apollo, a poor humble fwain,
As I feem now. Their transformations
Were never for a piece of beauty rarer,
Nor in a way so chafte: fince my defires
Run not before mine honour, nor my lufts
Burn hotter than my faith.

Per. O, but, dear Sir,

Your refolution cannot hold, when 'tis
Oppos'd, as it must be, by th' power o'th' King.

One of thefe two muft be neceffities,

Which then will fpeak, that you must change this purpose,

Or I my life.

Flo. Thou dearest Perdita,

With these forc'd thoughts, I pr'ythee, darken not
The mirth o'th' feaft; or I'll be thine, my fair,

Or not my

father's. For I cannot be

Mine own, nor any thing to any, if

N 3

I

I be not thine. To this I am most constant,
Tho' destiny say no. Be merry, (Gentle,)
Strangle fuch thoughts as thefe, with any thing
That you behold the while. Your guests are coming:
Lift up your countenance, as 'twere the day
Of celebration of that nuptial, which
We two have fworn fhall come.

Per. O lady fortune,

Stand you aufpicious!

Enter Shepherd, Clorun, Mopfa, Dorcas, Servants; with Polixenes and Camillo difguis'd.

Flo. See, your guefts approach;

Addrefs yourself to entertain them fprightly,
And let's be red with mirth.

Shep. Fie, daughter; when my old wife liv'd, upon This day fhe was both pantler, butler, cook,

Both dame and fervant; welcom'd all, ferv'd all;
Would fing her fong, and dance her turn; now here
At upper end o'th' table, now i'th' middle:
On his fhoulder, and his; her face o' fire
With labour; and the thing she took to quench it
She would to each one fip. You are retired,
As if you were a feasted one, and not
The hoftefs of the meeting: pray you, bid
These unknown friends to's welcome, for it is
A way to make us better friends, more known.
Come, quench your blushes, and present your felf
That which you are, miftrefs o'th' feaft. Come on,
And bid us welcome to your fheep-fhearing,

As your good flock fhall profper.

Per. Sirs, welcome.

[To Pol. and Cam.

It is my father's will, I fhould take on me

The hoftefsfhip o'th' day; you're welcome, Sirs.
Give me thofe flowers there, Dorcas.-

Reverend Sirs,

For
you there's rofemary and rue, these keep
Seeming and favour all the winter long:
Grace and remembrance be unto you both,
And welcome to our shearing!

Pol

Pol. Shepherdess,

(A fair one are you,) well

With flowers of winter.

you fit our ages

Per. Sir, the year growing ancient,

Not yet on fummer's death, nor on the birth
Of trembling winter, the fairest flowers o'th' feafon
Are our carnations, and ftreak'd gilly-flowers,
Which fome call nature's baftards: of that kind
Our ruftick garden's barren, and I care not
To get flips of them.

Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden,

Do you neglect them?

Per. For I have heard it said,

There is an art, which in their piedeness shares
With great creating nature.

Pol. Say, there be;

Yet nature is made better by no mean,

But nature makes that mean; fo over that art,
Which, you fay, adds to nature, is an art

That nature makes; you fee, fweet maid, we marry
A gentler fcyon to the wildeft flock;

And make conceive a bark of bafer kind

By bud of nobler race. This is an art,

Which does mend nature, change it rather; but

The art it felf is nature.

Per. So it is.

Pol. Then make your garden rich in gilly-flowers, And do not call them baftards.

Per. I'll not put

The dibble in earth, to fet one flip of them:

No more than, were I painted, I would with

This youth fhould fay, "twere well; and only therefore:
Defire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you;

Hot lavender, mints, favoury, marjoram,
The mary-gold, that goes to bed with th' fun,
And with him rifes, weeping: these are flowers
Of middle fummer, and, I think, they are given
To men of middle age. Y'are very welcome.

Cam. I fhould leave grazing, were I of your flock, And only live by gazing.

N. 4

Per.